


plusquamperfekt (or: Easy Like Sunday Morning)

by moodysky



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, POV Oikawa Tooru, Pining Oikawa Tooru, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:47:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26949208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moodysky/pseuds/moodysky
Summary: PLUSQUAMPERFEKT [lat.][1] the time before the past[2] more than perfect (as opposed to imperfect)[3] more than complete(d) timeThere were things that were easy. Waking up next to you wasn't one of those things.It wasn't like I had meticulously planned to end up within your white sheets, our hushed breaths filling a silence that had laid itself comfortably in the space between us, murmuring promises into the dark that no one would ever hear.Nothing ever happened between us, but it still meant everything to me.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime & Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10





	plusquamperfekt (or: Easy Like Sunday Morning)

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this instead of doing uni work. I guess this is somewhat a middle ground between a procrastination story and a pet project.  
> Have fun.

There were things that were easy. Waking up next to you wasn't one of those things.

It wasn't like I had meticulously planned to end up within your white sheets, our hushed breaths filling a silence that had laid itself comfortably in the space between us, murmuring promises into the dark that no one would ever hear.

Nothing ever happened between us, but it still meant everything to me.

"Can I call you tonight?", I innocently asked, my voice sultry and sweet as if that could ever convince Iwaizumi to do anything, especially when he sounded more exhausted than I felt and was, in key addition, about to end our call.

"That depends on if you've slept enough.", he replied dryly, always painfully aware of my bad sleeping habits. He knew too well that I had pulled some serious all-nighters the previous week to scarcely finish that sociology paper on modern concepts of the foreign and how the distinction between the alien and the other can be found all around us, most clearly in pop culture and specifically science-fiction media. He knew since he had talked me through most of it, and it certainly hadn't been the first or first-hundredth time he forced me to bed, persistently urging me to sleep.

"Are you sure you're not my mom, Iwa-chan?", I teased, only to get an annoyed grunt on the other side of the line, that sounded suspiciously like 'might as well be'.

"Don't worry, I've slept the entire day!", I hastily added trying to put as much enthusiasm into my voice as humanly possible, unable to stop the foolish smile that was spreading on my face.

"Didn't you just say you had a very tight schedule today? Oikawa...", there was unequivocal and a familiar kind of doubt in his voice. Of course, he didn't believe me. To be fair, I was lying through my teeth, and he was definitely worried. The feeling of sick satisfaction filled me.

Even though I hated to do that to him, to bother him even more, something that I somehow hadn't noticed missing fell into place inside my body when his voice became careful and gentle like that. There was something profound about all that honest attention focussed on me, it made me hold on to those memories only to remember their pleasant warmth fondly on cold days. And while that feeling lingered on, soaking through everything that was me, I felt so utterly helpless in the face of it.

"Yeah, but I got everything done quicker than expected, so?"

The fancy city bakery had actually completed the order three hours earlier than planned and I had been able to pick up the decorated cake in a cute baby blue box with robots and car patterns a few hours in advance after one hell of a ride in the overcrowded subway. Hence, I was at least being honest about that.

"I'm not sure if I should believe you."

"You definitely should, Iwa- ah, shit, I think I forgot my keys in the locker room at the gym.", I suddenly realized while I was fumbling mindlessly in the left pocket of my thin sports jacket and instantly noticed a distinct lack of weight, balancing the cake box on the other hand, pressing the phone to my ear with my shoulder.

"Well, you should get those first, I suppose.", Iwaizumi suggested, sounding amused about the prospects of me having to walk all the way back.

"Then I'll text you later, Iwa-chan!", I purred into the phone before the click on the other side told me Iwaizumi had hung up and I smiled to myself.

**Idiot:** u still havent answered my question :( can I call u 2nite?

 **Iwa-chan <3: **Did you find your keys?

 **Idiot:** yea so?

 **Iwa-chan <3: **I don't know. I'm a little busy this night, it depends on how tired I am.

 **Idiot:** :(

It hurt a little. I tried brushing it off, but that didn't stop it from hurting.

Of course Iwa-chan had better things to do; he was a handsome guy on a campus filled with pretty people. For all I know, he just wanted to celebrate the first precious hours of his birthday with his new friends. Probably with that girl. Maybe she finally confessed to him. That thought haunted me, it had been haunting me every single one of my waking hours for anxious months. I knew they'd look good together; I had imagined her fitting into his arms too many times to not know they would.

It was a simple equation of opportunity cost, truly. I undoubtedly knew that on a list of impossible things Iwaizumi Hajime wasn't dumb enough to do, falling in love with me was probably number one but surely in the top 3. And I wasn't dumb enough to genuinely believe that he would risk the social stigma for himself and his family of being with another man or choose the hassle of having to put up with needy, clingy me for the rest of his life.

However, that didn't stop me from hoping it anyway. And even if that was a deeply foolhardy notion, I believed it offered an accurate observation about the soul crushing nature of love. Or the specific kind of soul crushing love that is loving Iwaizumi Hajime.

Knowing these things also made everything so easy, there was no use crying about it. Even though that didn't stop me from doing it anyway. The thought of how good they'd look together and how mismatched him and I were in every way imaginable kept returning no matter how many times I instantly pushed it away. I had nothing on her.

Maybe it stung a little to admit the objective reality of these things. Maybe it stung more than a little. It was one of these very unique kinds of narcissism deeply rooted in insecurity to know, that I could be loved by all these people, devoted fans and classmates, but not by Iwaizumi Hajime. Not him, who knew me inside out, who turned my insides out.

I wasn't jealous, really, I wasn't. Envy was my preferred poison. The difference being that jealousy is motivated by the erratic fear of losing something you already own, while envy is just selfishly wanting to keep onto something you don’t own in the first place. In a sense, it is holding onto nothing. In that sense, _I_ was holding onto nothing.

Both of them were disgusting emotions, dirty fuels, however one burned with a little more light than heat.

My helpless glance hovered anxiously over the train tickets on my desk. It hadn't been the wisest choice, but I wasn't known to make wise choices. Even if he wasn't home, even if he was with her tonight, I could nevertheless get his presents there on time and still surprise him when he comes home, I thought while carefully cutting the wrapping paper in the rough shape of the Godzilla collector's edition box.

It inevitably happened on one of my rare visits in Kyoto. Her roommate had sexiled her and she texted Iwaizumi after he had picked me up from the main station, politely asking if she could join us. I had been increasingly aware of her, she was like a small but relentless motion in my peripheral vision that was irritating and forced me to think about it.

I don't remember who suggested it but we ended up spending the late evening in a small pub only a few subway stops away from both their places. It was a small but tidy place with a distinct retro look, colourful but muted lights and neon signs on the decorated walls and countless bottles of alcohol lined on a big metal shelf behind the counter, illuminated by LED strips. The speakers were playing some sweet, unrecognizable tunes and the lively atmosphere was comfortable, we were comfortable.

A desperate part of me eagerly wanted to pretend her presence was interfering with our, mine and Iwa-chan's, routine but I quickly realized that _I_ was being the disruption _their_ routine. And this was the bar where they went out on typical Friday nights.

The thing about nostalgia is, that it is deeply rooted in the past, it is not even alive anymore by the time you start feeling nostalgic about it. Since him and I were spending so much critical time apart, despite everything we tried to stay in touch, the familiar way our lives were intertwined had naturally unravelled and drifted apart. It was _their_ relationship that had been nurtured and cultivated and I was invading the space they had established for themselves while I was living in Tokyo. I belatedly realized that I couldn't slip easily into his life anymore, that there were parts and pieces of it that were unknown strangers to me and that considered me a stranger to them.

I sat next to Iwaizumi, reached out to him and leaned tiredly against him, my head on his muscled shoulder with half closed eyes barely aware of anything but the heat radiating off his tender skin to let all the unbearable tension that had stored itself in my body over the past months slowly fade into the background. God, how I had missed this.

"Are you sure, you don't want to go home?", he whispered gently, a little concerned, tentatively touching my shoulder and forcing me to look into his warm eyes. I didn't know green could ever feel that warm. How much I had missed _him_.

"I'm fine, Iwa-chan. Really! It's just been a long day.", I mumbled while tightening my secure grip around his arm.

At this point I just needed any convenient excuse to be close to him. Naturally I got very touchy when I was tipsy, more so than I was usually. Clearly, I wasn't tipsy from the few beers we had, but Iwa-chan didn't have to know that. Otherwise, there would have been really no good reason for my behaviour. Except, of course, for the truth.

Part of me intuitively understood that I had something to prove, not only to myself but also everyone around us, including or specifically her. That I could do this, that it was normal for me to be this close to him. That we were typically this close even if it had been a while. That Iwa-chan would not push me away. Minor victories.

At some point Iwaizumi excused himself to the bathroom, abandoning us alone at the table. The following silence was slightly awkward, but it wasn't suffocating. The waiter appeared with a loaded tray carrying the three drinks we had ordered ages ago. I immediately grabbed Iwaizumi's whiskey glass, carefully placed it next to mine and stared at the amber liquid to passively watch the glittering ice melt.

"Sometimes…", she began slowly, I looked up and her burning eyes were promptly locking onto mine, "...I feel so special when he takes care of me, but I wonder if he's like that with everyone.", it wasn't really a question, but she asked me quietly, not scared but wary of my reaction. I didn't flinch, but I couldn't prevent my eyes from widening a little in surprise.

I knew she had phrased it cautiously, I knew that by "everyone" she likely meant primarily me, her intense gaze methodically searching for an implicit answer in my face. I wasn't good at containing myself when things were about Iwaizumi, it was easy with everyone else, but not him. Nevertheless, I kept myself together and smiled broadly at her.

It bitterly hurt to look at her, the warm lights casting shadows into her big sapphire eyes, round face, her hour glass shape, her delicate, small hands and I still couldn't help but admire her. She looked lovely. She looked like someone that could unquestionably make him happy, at least happier than I could and it made me angry. Not at her, mostly at myself. Maybe a little at her. I had nothing on her.

It wasn't like I hadn't asked myself that question too, like those worrying thoughts had never crossed my mind. I had just feared that merely putting them into words, would make it too real, would turn it into a question that I didn't want the answer to. We were the same in that regard. I don't think she understood back then. I'm not sure she understands now.

Iwaizumi rarely told me anything about his relationship to others and now that I had inevitably become a significantly smaller force in his life, it felt like I was trying to read him blindly. I knew better than everyone that he was compassionate and kind, helpful to a fault. Back then I didn't know Iwaizumi had cared for her that much, but it made sense if he did. They had shared classes since freshman year, so the question absolutely shouldn't have come as a surprise to me and in a tragic sense it didn't.

"Why do you ask?", my words were slowly and carefully, creeping out when I ultimately pushed through the violent storm of thoughts that had temporarily clouded my mind and found my voice again, taking my eyes off her. I knew where this was going, I didn't even have to be extremely smart to recognize it in the odd way she looked hopefully at me. In the odd way she had looked hopefully at him, her gaze lingering onto him with an overwhelming sense of longing that I understood all too well.

I prevented my mind from going there, but I knew. I had thought about it too much to not know.

"I think I'm falling in love with Hajime.", she paused awkwardly.

"I love him."

Nothing else mattered in that moment. Only her terrible words were echoing around in my head.

I love him.

_I love him._

I took the polished glass of cheap whiskey from the table, made it a swirl with a controlled motion of my wrist, fixating on the small ice pieces, melting away, running in circles, until there was nothing left of them and wondered bitterly if it would be too obvious if I downed it in one go.

I took a small sip.

It was easy.

My phone vibrated as I was feverishly packing my backpack, trying to fit in way too many, to any rational person clearly useless, things into it.

 **Iwa-chan <3: **You can call around 1am.

 **Idiot:** :)

The cracked door flung shut as I shouldered the heavy burden of Iwa-chan's birthday present and instantly made my way to the Tokyo main station, checking a last time for my phone and the train tickets, carefully balancing the cake in a construction of strings and taped grocery bags that were cut together to make an overly complex but definitely under-engineered carrier for the clunky baby blue box with the robot-car patterns.

The thing about the last train of the night is that there is literally and figuratively no way back. At least not until the next morning. As the glowing lights of Tokyo skyline grew smaller and smaller in the distance before they vanished altogether I couldn't stop my anxious thoughts from running wild.

What if Iwaizumi didn't want me there? Maybe I was intruding into a part of his life that he didn't want me to be in? The cake felt unnaturally heavy on my lap and I forcibly closed my eyes, carefully took a deep breath and tried to calm down as much as the rhythmic hum of the train following its tracks allowed me to, forcing myself to count my breaths as the light of cities and stations rushed by on the other side of the thick glass.

The other thing about the last train of the night is that it doesn't line up perfectly for a midnight surprise. In fact, it actually makes you arrive more than an hour earlier than needed. It was strange to arrive in Kyoto knowing he wasn't waiting for me at the station to pick me up. I took my first step out of the huge glass building and realized it was raining softly. I shivered a little. These Summer nights were, nonetheless, unforgiving cold summer nights and the light drizzle slowly but surely started to cover my thin coat. I didn't mind the rain, holding the cake close to me, trying to protect the thin, baby blue cardboard box with the robot-car-pattern from getting too wet and falling apart.

I looked into the sky and waited. Waited for the inevitable to not-happen and walked slowly towards his flat. Iwaizumi didn't live far from the main station, it was only a few subway stops away. Still, walking took a while but I had time to spare and needed it to calm my nerves.

Midnight came faster and at the same time slower than expected and I had overthought my entire foolish endeavour in a thousand different ways, my nerves were raw. Here I was, sitting on a bench next to a flickering street lantern a few breathless minutes away from his place and I wasn't sure anymore if I was shaking uncontrollably from the cold night air or from the sheer nervousness that was pumping through my veins.

I could just leave the presents there, at his door step, return to the station and wait a few hours for the first train back to Tokyo. I didn't want to intrude, it was Iwa-chan's birthday after all. He shouldn't have to bother with me today. This was not my place.

My phone lock screen told me it was 23:55, so I took a deep breath to empty my head, walked up to the front door of the gray apartment complex and slowly took out the presents, my cold hands shaking while I carefully placed the smaller packages around the cake. It took a few fruitless attempts before I was satisfied with the arrangement and took another deep breath, turned around and started to make my way back, thinking about how this was the least I could do for him.

"Time won't run away, Oikawa. You can't keep doing this to yourself!", Iwaizumi sounded like he was close to shouting at me and I wasn't sure if his harsh voice was distorted because of the phone static or if it was shaking, barely containing his anger.

I didn't know how to react, Iwaizumi got annoyed at me, yes, but never outright angry, never like this and I fell into a bottomless pit. I had betrayed his trust and recklessly disregarded his care - again, like I always did. This entire situation was exactly what I had been trying to avoid, I didn't want him to waste his time worrying about me. He was doing so well and here I was, his fuck-up of a childhood friend, taking it away from him. And yet Iwaizumi was still here.

I heard him take some deliberate deep and slow breaths on the other side.

"Fuck, do you have any idea how fucked up this kind of behaviour is?", he sounded exhausted and tired, even though it was my shattered knee that was screaming in agony.

I felt like crying, I knew I had fucked up. It hadn't even been the first or second time I had hurt myself by overestimating and overextending my body, working frantically through another burnout and inevitably burning out but it had surely been the worst. And it just felt like a sick kind of relief to keep your body busy until you pass out just to wake up and repeat it all over again, no conscious thoughts, no excessive worries, nothing and everything to exhaust my heart.

All it had taken was a profile picture, some vague posts on her social media to make me spiral, to turn my mind against itself and to make me desperately want to avoid thinking about her words that night. About what they meant, what those pictures meant, what they were hinting at. I didn't want to lose him, and I couldn't cope with any of it.

"Please stop hurting yourself. The stars won't run away and time, especially time for your education won't either.", he repeated fiercely, now incredibly calm, a little like he was begging me to stop, a little like a last warning.

"But you will, Iwa-chan."

It just blurted out, before I could bite down my on my tongue. Silence, for just a terrible second. I wasn't breathing.

"That's not true. I'll never run away from you."

"Can you promise me that?"

"Pinky promise."

Falling in love with you was ridiculously easy, I had witnessed it happening to so many people but I swear it felt special when my foolish heart started beating out of my chest.

"I have to go now, Oikawa."

"Okay."

Click.

**Idiot:** HAPPY BIRTHDAY IWA-CHAN!!

 **Iwa-chan <3: **Thank you.

 **Idiot:** where r u?

 **Iwa-chan <3: **At home, you can call me in an hour.

 **Idiot:** open ur front door.

 **Iwa-chan <3: **Oh, that's cool. Did you bake the cake?

 **Idiot:** u know i cant bake but i can try next time

 **Iwa-chan <3: **So, you send the presents to Matsun and he placed them?

 **Idiot:** nah ive no idea where i am

 **Iwa-chan <3: **So, you ran away?

 **Idiot:** if u invite me i come

 **Iwa-chan <3: **I invite you.

 **Idiot:** r u sure?

 **Iwa-chan <3: **Yes, come back, Oikawa.

 **Idiot:** sry I got lost

 **Idiot:** finally found ur street

 **Idiot:** open ur door

 **Iwa-chan <3: **What the fuck

 **Iwa-chan <3: **You actually

 **Iwa-chan <3: **What the actual

"What the fuck?", I heard my voice shaking in disbelief when I cautiously opened the door, "What on earth are you doing here?"

Iwaizumi's satisfied grin that night was everything I needed to pull myself together. He stood right in front of me, the radiant lights of Tokyo painting faint colours onto the sharp edges of his familiar face.

"Get a warm jacket, Shittykawa. Let's get you out of here.", he vaguely gestured at the tiny apartment complex.

I don't remember instantly rushing up the shallow staircases, practically falling over my own feet, grabbing the next best jacket on the hanger and sprinting back down, jumping over several stairs at once, the blood rushing through my ears. I actually don't remember anything but how much my face hurt from grinning stupidly the entire time.

It was difficult to find a quiet space to calm down in an overcrowded city with a night-life like Tokyo, so we silently and aimlessly wandered off into the lovely night under street lights as far away from the vibrant city, the sound of car engines and people's loud voices as possible.

"I still can't believe you are here.", I couldn't hide the smile in my voice. "But honestly, why?"

"Because you sounded sad. Sadder than that time we lost against Kageyama.", he whispered carefully, his observant eyes locking onto mine. My eyes widened in surprise, and the air got stuck in my lungs.

You're so mean Iwa-chan. How am I supposed to get my heart to stop beating so fast when you say things like this?

"Happy Birthday! Surprise, Iwa-chan.", I beamed at him while he was merely standing in the doorway, staring disbelieving at my dishevelled hair and the wide grin on my face, raindrops peeling from my coat.

"I can't believe, you actually-", he whispered before promptly pulling me into a sudden hug. I was convinced my heart was exploding, when his arms gently wrapped around me. I had missed his touch so much. I couldn't help but feel like crying as I was eagerly pressing myself closer into his warm embrace.

She wasn't here. She wasn't here. I was. It wasn't too late. _I_ wasn't too late.

"I didn't think you'd want me here.", I mumbled into his shoulder.

"Of course I do.", he smiled reassuringly, "I still can't believe you actually came, you're crazy.", he shook his head in disbelief, releasing me from his arms and I forced my hands to let go of his comfortable warmth, the harsh cold returning to my bones and I shivered.

He closed the front door, and I followed him upstairs and suddenly I felt like we were kids again, when I climbed up the stairs into his room every day, only ever seeing his back running in front of me.

I slipped out of my shoes, and I stood in front of the entrance of the flat, smilingly watching Iwaizumi disappear into the kitchen, before I stepped into the hallway. The roof was close above us and I heard the relentless rain falling heavily on the slope. It was like taking a step into foreign lands and at the same time as coming home, a place I had yearned for and that was still so unknown to me. I had arrived.

Iwaizumi quickly came out of the kitchen with a cup of hot cocoa and steered me to his room where I slowly sat down on the big double bed that stood in a corner next to his desk, when I instantly noticed at a picture of our high school volleyball team was fondly propped up on his night stand next to where he had placed the steaming cup. I was fidgeting nervously with a loose thread on my ragged sleeve, barely holding onto the used button.

"Drink.", he sternly ordered, having noted that I was still wearing my coat. He closed the door and turned his head to me, silently asking me if I needed anything else. I smiled, thinking there wasn't possibly anything more that I could have asked for that night.

He wanted me here, in his place, in his room. He had asked me to stay, there was no one else. I had all of his attention, how could I ask for more?

There was no direct-train back to Kyoto until the early morning. Somehow I had gotten lucky enough to keep Hajime with me for at least a few more precious hours until the sun rose. We wandered off into the sleepless night. He insisted on doing it to clear my head, and I followed him silently unable to protest and happy to know him by my side.

There was a small park close to my place, where the city had shovelled a wide hole into the ground and introduced a miniature, artificial lake that was filled to the brim with duckweeds. But in the dim, softly flickering lights of the street lamps that reflected off the mirror-like surface, throwing its soft glow into the dark creating small spots, islands of mellow light, one could be fooled into believing it was beautiful.

We sat down on a bench at the shallow bank of the lake, the air was silent and we were shrouded in whatever darkness there was in the middle of two lights. It was cold, I was shivering a little under the thin jacket that I had quickly grabbed from my overstuffed chair before rushing downstairs. We didn't talk much that night, I leaned heavily on his shoulder, my eyelids only seconds away from closing completely and I just enjoyed knowing him right there next to me.

The stars in Miyagi were always visible on clear nights. Tokyo was too bright to see any more than a handful of them weakly shimmering seemingly even farther away. Our childhood had contained many peaceful nights that we spent just looking at the sky, gazing at the stars in my parent's backyard, and I had grown up to love the night sky right next to Iwaizumi.

I was dozing off on his shoulder, occasionally looking up to his face or down his hands where he was doing something on his phone that my heavy brain didn't have the strength to decipher. Our cold breath danced in dissolving clouds into the dark sky and I felt calm for the first time in forever.

"Thank you.", I eventually said, I love you on my tongue. He replied with a small grunt. I'm sure it meant something like "Of course" and I smiled weakly. We were both acutely aware that this wasn't an "Of course"-kind of situation, everything about this was stupid and fucked up.

At some point he must have noticed that I was cold, because he cursed out loud when he accidentally touched my half numb hand. His hand was warm.

"Fuck, you're freezing.", he glared angrily ,"Tell me next time!"

"I didn't notice.", I smiled, weak but unconvincingly.

He pulled roughly on my fashionable jacket to help me stand up from the bench, my sore legs felt like they were stuck, my limbs cold, unable to leave while he pushed my shivering body through the abandoned streets of an early morning Tokyo back home.

"'m tired.", the familiar words slipped out before I had the chance to think. Iwaizumi suddenly closed the photo album we had looked through for the previous hour and aggressively looked at me with a scowl on his face that softened when our eyes met.

"You should've told me earlier, Shittykawa.", he whispered gently.

I quickly nodded, smiling sheepishly at him. "I know, I know."

But before I could protest he already stood up and turned off the lights, then darkness fell over us. The rustling of his clothes while he was moving was the only thing I heard before the bed squeaked and I felt a weight next to me on the mattress.

"Let’s go to sleep. I'll take this end.", he whispered before I heard him burying himself in a blanket on the farthest left side of the wide double bed and instantly turned his back to me. I wordlessly complied and made myself comfortable on the other side, foolishly thinking about how things were never truly broken next to him.

"Do you think-"

"-shut up. We're sleeping. No talking.", he interrupted, determined to force me to sleep and I begrudgingly obliged.

“Good night.”

A smile crept on my face, staring wistfully at the dark outline of his body throwing shadows onto the blankets. If I only stretched my hand out far enough, I could have touched him. I couldn't think of a word to describe that painful urge to touch him and being unable to do it. I knew how it felt to hold his hand, we had done it innocently when we were younger. He had done it once to warm my hand in late autumn a year, or so, ago. My hand felt cold. Maybe he could do it again, just for a little while.

As I laid there, I couldn't help but think about anything but his body next to mine, desperately wished he would turn around, so I could take a glimpse at the rough shapes of his face through the darkness, faintly illuminated by a street light outside, wishing he would look at me.

It wasn't like I wasn't thinking about it. About telling him. I love him. Of course, I did. I had known for a while now. I didn't know when it started, but I knew it preceded the realization that I could love at all. Maybe I should have told him, I certainly wanted to, but I just couldn't-

Lying next to him felt like I had tricked destiny into falsely giving me something I didn't deserve and I wondered bitterly if I could ever do it again.

"I'm cold.", I whispered, and I was.

Silence.

"I'm cold.", I repeated quietly.

I wonder if he thought about pulling me into his arms before he climbed out of the bed to turn on the heater and carefully returned to his end. And he fell asleep next to me. And I lived to die another day.

In the end, warmth is all I remember. Warmth and comfort. The continuous sound of relentless rain, the rush of hot water through the old pipes in the wall next to me. The rustling of blankets. His steady breathing next to me. My hand a few inches from him. And I was breathing freely again for the first time in what had been long weeks before finally, finally falling asleep.

The first express train of the day ran at 5 am, and Iwaizumi set a small alarm at 4 am on his phone to make sure I could make it to the station on time and arrive in Tokyo as early as possible to get some sleep to be able to drag myself to my afternoon classes. Iwa-chan was brutal. The sun was barely peaking above the horizon, and the air was cold from the rain that had fallen the entire night and laid itself over us like a protecting veil. The parting was bittersweet, but at least it was sweet.

He hugged me goodbye with a tired smile and I clung onto him, like I could drag out these rare moments of intimacy we shared, before he went back to bed to survive his morning classes in only a few hours. I had vehemently insisted on going to the station by myself, assuring him that I could make it alone - as if I could ever do anything without him. But I did end up catching my train.

 **Iwa-chan <3: **Text me when you get home.

I smiled. Of course, I would.

The sun was slowly rising far behind the horizon as we made our way back brightening the black sky around us ever so slightly, little by little to a dark grey. My numb fingers struggled to grab onto the icy keys in my pocket that felt like tiny stitches every time I touched it, so when I finally turned the key and pushed the door open into my small and ugly flat, we were virtually frozen into place. Iwaizumi immediately shed out of his cold clothes promptly taking one of my oversized hoodies out of the closet and pulling it over his head, while I tried my best not to stare and suppress the overwhelming urge to touch his exposed skin. I followed suit, turned my back to him and the shame rose in me when I felt his lingering gaze on me, but he didn't say anything.

When I turned around again, he was already gone and I heard him rummaging through the kitchen, cursing out loud when he realized I owned a grand total of two cups, before the satisfying deep rumble of boiling water joined the hum of electricity.

Suddenly the nervousness crept all the way back, and I stood in the hallway for what must have been several minutes, unsure how to act. The kitchen door was slightly open, a few slivers of light crowding around the edges. I carefully looked into the mirror on the wall next to my coat rack, my uncombed hair was looking ridiculous, all over the place, the side that had been pressed against his shoulder stuck flat against my head while the other half was sticking and curling up, the bags under my eyes bore witness to the sleepless nights and worries that kept on haunting me. I self-consciously tugged on the frayed edges of my sleeve, wondered if I looked cute.

"I can take the guest futon.", I half-whispered when I shyly entered the kitchen, slowly placing my feet down. Our eyes met for a brief moment and it felt nearly domestic to see him leaned comfortably against the counter top, carefully pouring the water into two alien themed cups.

Iwaizumi only shook his head. "No, you have to rest. Get into your bed already.", he handed me one of the steaming cups and gently pushed out of the kitchen into my bedroom where I obediently sat down on my bed. I didn't have the energy to protest loudly, so I just let out a small whine and accepted my fate. Stubbornness never worked with Iwaizumi anyway.

The cracked cup of tea burned on my fingertips as I sat in my bed, motionless, watching steam rise from E.T.'s oversized head. I heard a click from the hall and Iwaizumi stood in the threshold to my bedroom, my eyes shot up. He instantly gave me an expectant look that told me I should drink the tea and go to sleep already. I took a sip. My eyes followed his angled reflection in the mirror while he pulled out the futon that was stuck behind my closet, unrolled it and spread it next to my bed, carefully smoothing down the folds.

I couldn't say what he was thinking no matter how hard I looked at his face in the reflection. I emptied the cup in one go, the amber liquid burning sweetly in my throat, all the way down. Mirror Iwaizumi was looking at me.

"You sure you don't want to take the bed?", I whispered, gesturing vaguely at the futon on the ground.

He merely shook his head. I gave him a weak smile. He gave me a small nod before he abruptly stood up, breaking the eye contact, and turned off the light.

"Sleep.", he ordered, and I could sense his intense gaze through the darkness.

I nodded and snickered a small "Yes, mother.", and snuggled into my blankets.

He did the same on the floor next to me. The glued on stars on the ceiling were getting blurry in front of me, I wanted to reach out, but they seemed so far away as our breathing slowed down.

I thanked him again.

And he, about to fall asleep on the guest futon next to me, told me that I make him a better human and I was glad it was dark and couldn't meet his eyes because then I would have told him, that he made me human at all.

It was like a stolen moment, when I could pretend nothing changed between us, forget how strange things had become between us, how strange _I_ had _made_ things between us and we felt in synch again, like a version of Iwaizumi and Oikawa again, that could take on the world.

In retrospect, it felt like a last act of mercy.

I slept soundly until the late afternoon of the next day, the exhaustion I had worked through finally caught up to me and made itself felt in how heavy my numb body was protesting when Iwaizumi shook me awake to whisper a quick goodbye at dawn. My hand was too slow to grab onto his sleeve, asking him to stay, my voice too small to call for his name and the door fell shut so terribly loud before everything around me went silent.

There comes a time in everyone's life when they have to make a choice of what to keep and what to throw away - and even though it seemed like a split second decision, it felt a lot like it had been in the making since the moment I looked at you and realized how good you looked in the light, when it was bouncing right off your face making your eyes shimmer in a way I knew people had written poems about.

It takes seconds before I understand what's happening. Mere seconds before the light reflecting from your closed eyelids, hits my cornea, sends a signal to my brain and turns it into a picture that burns itself into my memories. It's not the first time I see you kissing someone but it's the first time my brain tells me it's real, that it's not just a paranoid fiction of my sick imagination, and it makes me question the very fabric of reality for those few seconds in between staring into the abyss and the abyss staring back at me, as my brain turns the visual confirmation of loss into my heart breaking. And I hate myself for how weak my knees feel. 

I know I am shaking as I turn away from you two, the pain spreading through my central nervous system, crawling through my body, reaching my numb fingertips and I bolt. I don't know where I am running, sudden pain in my knee shooting up my spine, I just know it's in the opposite direction of where I was going before, people and buildings around me disappearing as I try the best to calm myself. By the time I'm starting to comprehend what happened, I am already at the main station of Kyoto waiting for my train. There are no tears, I just feel hollow. Why would I even want to cry? I knew it was coming, of course I knew.

Trying to convince yourself that you're not running away, that you're letting go, is a little difficult when you're literally running away. Fuck, of course I am running away, what else could I have done but leave you two to it?

You could have told me or at least warned me, _"hey, Oikawa, I'm gonna make out with my girlfriend in front of you right now, oh, and by the way, I've got a girlfriend now"_ , or something like that. It was certainly a pathetic display of cowardice that marked the end for that light-hearted tragedy of it all.

There comes a time in everyone's life when they have to make a choice of what to keep and what to throw away. It's not like I didn't try to hold onto you, but sometimes it's just not enough. I can't even remember if it hurt more or less than expected. It was the cumulation of all my faulty actions, the result of natural progression, like taking the path of least resistance. It was easy.

"I love him.", her voice wasn't quivering, she sounded confident when she finally said it. I took a sip from the raw whiskey. Of course, she did, she was even more obvious than me.

"I love him.", she repeated carefully it, more to herself than to me, as if she was trying out the odd taste of those words, wore it out. I tried not to cringe. From my extensive experience they tasted bittersweet, spreading across the tongue, burning your throat if you were foolish enough to let them linger on for too long.

"You should tell him."

"You think so?"

A lot of the things we said won't be recorded for the future, in fact, a vast majority of things we have said will be forgotten as soon as they are uttered. And it's our job to make sure they count anyway.

"Yeah, definitely. How else will he know? He probably likes you back.", I smiled encouragingly at her pretty face, the sweet music at the bar playing for the irony of my life. I took another sip.

You can't say I never did anything for you, Iwa-chan.

It had been one of those rare moments when words turn thoughts and fears into overwhelming reality for the first time. The pillars of my world were collapsing, and I knew, it wasn't difficult to tell. I took another sip of the whiskey and drowned out the breaking of my hideous heart. I had nothing on her. It was easy.

It took a few months before things inevitably went south. It wasn't like I hadn't known or anticipated it. A naïve part of me had somewhat hoped I would have been able to handle things better, or at least that's what I tell myself while my heart beats numbly in my chest.

I had gone back to Miyagi for winter break and he had too. Despite my frantic efforts to stay away from every place he was likely to be at, Iwaizumi inevitably cornered me at home, in my childhood bedroom, a place had that always felt like it was just as much his as it was mine. How poetic. He stood right in front of me, the expression in his face unreadable. I didn't dare to meet his eyes.

"Why are you avoiding me, Oikawa?"

"I've just been very busy, you know my sister, and-", I managed to flash him a wide smile, the corners of my mouth feeling uncomfortable trying to keep it from turning into a grimace.

"-quit it! Tell me, what the fuck is going on? Why are you lying again?", Iwaizumi wasn't angry, he wasn't shouting, his voice was calm, but he was visibly upset. I couldn't blame him, it was all my fault but I still hated seeing him like this and I wondered if he felt as helpless as I did.

Can't a man lie when his heart is breaking? I wanted to ask him, tell him and lay everything I was open, right in front of his feet. Fuck, I love him, the cruel words had never been clearer to me, like bright letters hovering in the darkness whenever I closed my eyes. I desperately wanted to tell him, my heart was burning, beating numbly in my chest and the words were laying on the tip of my tongue, screaming at me to just tell him, waiting desperately to be heard, to escape into the world and be acknowledged but I swallowed them down and let them die in my throat before they could make it out and held my breath.

I wondered if he knew, if was able to read me like an open book and could tell what I was thinking. Even if he did, he didn't say anything and I couldn't tell him, it wasn't my place. It has never been, but it especially wasn't now. Iwa-chan had a girlfriend. He was happy, and I couldn't even pretend to be someone that could make him happier. I couldn't take that from him.

"I can't-", I croaked out and took another agonizing moment to collect myself, or whatever it was that was left of me, keeping myself from breaking apart in front of him. "It's just t-that I need time!", I stammered out a pathetic excuse for my even worse behaviour of the past months, my voice unsteady. I was clenching my fists, my nails digging into the cracked skin of my palms, knowing I was holding desperately onto nothing.

He was my best friend. And I was about to lose him. I knew and it was my fault.

Iwaizumi sighed deeply, a sign of defeat, of resignation. "Okay."

And he leaves my room, slowly walking past me and I am so close to him for one last time. I wonder if he expects me to run after him, to reach out my hand for the rough fabric of his jacket or if he already knows that I have given up. I want to run after him, but I can't. I can't move, can't utter anything resembling an apology. I break down crying, cry that night and the many that come after it.

He stops asking about it, respects my wishes and gives me all the time I requested, returns the rest of my life, that we had planned on spending together, packages it neatly in a silence that threatens to swallow me every day, he gives it all back to me and we part our way.

And I disturb him no longer, take up no more of his valuable time. It's the last time we talk, properly talk.

And I let you go - or you let me go, I still don't know. All I know is, that it was easy. It was so easy witnessing my heart break.

I guess I was a little glad when it was finally over. Crushing defeat appears to be my forte, especially when it's my fault and I knew that it was my fault. It broke me in ways I still cannot put into words, but it was something resembling an ending, not closure, not catharsis, just an ending, the world falling apart. Not that I wasn't thinking about you all the time, even years after those events, telling myself that I should be doing fine by now and knowing you happy. I miss you, of course I do. It's all I do.

Sometimes I imagine waking up under your sheets in Kyoto again, next to you, like I could pretend nothing ever happened, like everything that came after that night just turns out to be a dream my paranoid mind made up. But that would just mean I would have to do it all over again, everything else would be unfair to you - and her.

I'm sure she makes good cake.

I like to pretend it's about you, because of you and your happiness but it really isn't. In the shallow end it really is about me. Because I'm easy, I'm easy like Sunday mornings.

I'm sorry.

Thank you.

Good Night.

Hajime.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. The second title (my original working title) is taken from one of the happiest break-up songs there is, Easy by the Commodores. It's a good mood song, give it a listen if you feel like it.
> 
> Stay safe.


End file.
